


McGenji Mystery Inc.

by acedtheblondetest



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Light Reading, M/M, Modern AU, Mystery solving, Scooby-Doo style, dumb boys in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-27 06:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21387256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acedtheblondetest/pseuds/acedtheblondetest
Summary: TITLE 100% NOT PENDING IT’S TOO GOOD TO RESIST.Jesse McCree and his boyfriend Genji Shimada go on road trips in Jesse’s beat up pickup truck Old Blue and solve mysteries along the way.And are also super gay.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Genji Shimada
Comments: 13
Kudos: 13





	1. Prologue - Old Blue

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not a HUGE mystery buff by any means, and definitely not the serious ones. I grew up on Scooby-Doo and have since then loved anything that’s a low-stakes, corny ~mystery~.
> 
> With that in mind, if you have any suggestions for works that are mysteries that do NOT involve murder - please comment so I can check them out! I’m always on the look out for more inspiration. I just don’t want anything as serious or in-depth as a murder mystery for what’s supposed to be pretty light, stand alone short stories of these two nerds.
> 
> Also, give me a follow on Twitter! https://twitter.com/acetheblondtest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short little thing I wrote a while back about Jesse’s truck and have added to. It was the start to to this series, and in finding it again I thought it should be included as a sort of prologue.

Old Blue. A 1984 Ford F-150 with a once blue and white flareside paint job that had since faded to muted, lived in colors of their prime. Like a tastefully decorated living room you moved in with that after some months been warmed over into a place of home.  
  
There’s a ding in the passenger side door from a too quick slam open at a gas station. A scuff off of paint to the left of the tailgate latch when the height of a low wall was underestimated at, well, a tailgate party.  
  
Old Blue had seen her fair share of life. The radio tended to crackle and her seats had patches over patches in the most worn spots. But she could still get you places just fine safe and sound. She was Jesse’s good old girl.  
  
Driving down the quieter parts of Highway 5 with the windows down he could just let his arm rest on the door and drive until he reached the end of sunlight. If the wind moved through his hair it was all the better to the easing of any and all troubles. She had that sort of way about her. An old aunt or grandmother taking you into her rickety kitchen screen door for some cookies and soft advice.  
  
Normally the son of a fancy Japanese businessman, dyed and teased up hair or no, would not fit into such a setting. Genji managed to do the impossible though. He could look just as at home sipping sweet tea in your grandmothers wicker chairs as he could in the cab of Jesse’s truck. It took some time to get the dandy in him to be comfortable - a bit too polite when he first slid in her passenger side door. Old Blue was more given to feet up on the dash, leaning back on the door, and propping your feet up on the seat sort of seating arrangement.  
  
And damn - did he look beautiful with straw in his hair and laughter in his smile laying in the comfort of her truck bed. Even if they were having a bit of a row - usually Jesse’s fault as he wasn’t too proud to admit - Old Blue had a way about her that would hot chocolate on a fall evening soften Genji up against Jesse’s side.

Yep. Her speakers were scratchy at the best of times, but it was on them that Genji learned the words to Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide right alongside Jesse’s bellowing singing through the open windows. She may not have a backseat, seat warmers, a bed cover, automatic locking, or a center console… but she was Old Blue. Jesse, and later Genji, would have her no other way.


	2. The County Fair

“So - how are you related to her again?”

“She’s my ma’s aunt’s cousin on her dad’s side.”

“Alright. And you call her-?”

“Meemaw. Might as well be my grandma.”

“Jesse, this is the fourth woman you’ve told me about that you refer to as your grandmother. Or some derivative of the word.”

“Kid can never have too many grandma’s Genji.”

Genji turned his attention to his lap for a moment - looking away from the countryside scenes outside his window he had been watching for the past three hours. He only had vague memories relating to the term ‘grandmother.’ Was it his father’s mother? He believed that to be right. An elegant woman with strands of silver in dark hair, neatly pulled back into a bun. Fine silk gown - but not overly busy with pattern. ‘Classy’ was the word that came to mind. He had sat in her lap helping her peel oranges.

Memories were interrupted by a low chuckle. He turned his head - Jesse had his head half out the window with his nose in the air like a dog. Genji couldn’t help snorting. “What are you doing?”

“She baked a pie.”

“There’s no way you could smell that from here.”

“You’ll see. People pay good money for her pies at church bake sales.”

The drive was a long dirt path to the house on a hill. On either side was just under knee height tall grass littered with white and yellow wildflowers. At the end off to the left was a two story country home. White paint splayed with the dark gray of wood underneath darkened and washed out after years of wind and wear. The barn to the right of the drive had not received a fresh coat of paint in an even longer amount of time, it was more gray than white now.

“Meemaw,” Jesse greeted as he stepped up to the porch. He dwarfed the exceedingly stereotypical small elderly woman that stood from her wicker rocking chair for a hug. When he stepped aside Jesse kept one hand on her shoulder and used the other to gesture to Genji. “Meemaw Jenkins, this is Genji.”

All of his bred and taught etiquette showed in the way Genji bowed his head. A gentleness was there when they shook hands - she held his between her own when she spoke. “You’re little Jesse’s beau. He sang such fine little diddies about you when we last talked.” That cheeky grin almost resembled Jesse’s. Genji laughed brightly - or perhaps it was the other way around.

“You still goin’ about unloadin’ all my secrets on people?” Jesse asked. Threatened. Playfully. “For that I might hafta take that pie in there hostage. What’s it-” he sniffed, getting an eye roll from Genji and a chuckle from Meemaw, “apple?”

When Meemaw nodded her head Genji looked visibly shocked. There had been a pie. Jesse smacked at his shoulder jovially. “Told ya!”

“You just had a lucky guess,” he side mumbled at him.

“How’s about you boys take your things upstairs while I get the pie cut and plated up?” Meemaw offered.

Genji recognized the childish glint that flashed across Jesse’s eyes and hopeful smile. “You have ice cream to go with it?”

Meemaw laughed. A hearty sound, louder and more childish than what would have been expected from her small frame. “Of course. Best hurry with your bags ‘fore it melts.”

The screen door opens into an entry with stairs. There is a little parlor off to the left of the front door. Genji rolls his eyes at how proud Jesse is at even knowing the word parlor and thinking Genji would be surprised that he called it that rather than a sitting room. They leave their bags upstairs in the guest room, atop the two twin beds with the multi colored afghans folded at the end of each. Genji stands to look out the window between the two beds. It faced towards the back of the house, just climbing distance to the limbs of a tree. Another just behind it had a tire swing hanging from one of its stronger, lower limbs. A couple horses grazed in the back pasture just beyond. “Why do I get the feeling you often used this to sneak out?”

Jesse tugged on his arm from his place on one of the beds. “Because I did.” 

Genji gave him a look as if he were about to deny the silent request in Jesse’s motions - before he gave in and half sat in his lap, if however briefly. “Where is there to sneak out to, anyway?”

That got him a laugh. “Darlin, sometimes the sneakin out is the fun. Even if it was just to go on a moonlit ride to nowhere. Long as you got a want for it.”

The kitchen was in the back of the house, at the center an old wood table with white tiles set into the top. When the two came down Meemaw was just pulling the pie from the open kitchen window with small lace white curtains. On the table were bowls, silverware, and a waiting carton of BlueBell vanilla ice cream. When Genji noticed a crack in one of the inlaid table tiles near the edge and gave him a suspicious look, Jesse whistled innocently.

In the corner of the windowsill where the pie had sat was an old milk glass with flowers that had begun to droop. “I’ll get you some proper fresh flowers while I show Genji round the property, Meemaw,” Jesse said as he sat.

Whilst Meemaw sliced and served the pie Jesse dished out the ice cream. “So, Mrs. Jenkins, what is it Jesse and I will be doing to help you?” Genji asked.

“Mostly we just need big strong boys to do some heavy lifting. The church auction and sale is a big part of our county fair this week, it draws near five towns worth. Linda Carter’s boys John and Wayne hurt themselves both on the job last week. Them and a couple of their friends or teenage grandsons are usually all we need.” Jesse just shook his head when Genji eyed him at ‘John and Wayne.’ “We could also always use some help runnin’ stalls. Plus, it’s been some time since folks got to see Jesse all grown up.”

“I don’t know about grown up,” Genji joked, grinning at Jesse’s pout sent his way, “but I am glad we could help.”

Meemaw pointed a pie laden fork in Genji’s direction and cast her eyes on Jesse. “I like this one, Jess.”

They spent a good while like this, the three of them. It was near supper time and the pie and ice cream had long past been eaten when Jesse finally got to show Genji the property while Meemaw began cooking dinner. She refused any help from the either of them - it was only heating up a premade casserole. King ranch chicken, one of Jesse’s favorites from childhood.

“I wouldn’t mind spending longer than a weekend here. I’d love to hear more stories from her,” Genji laughed as they made their way to the old had been painted barn.

Jesse smacked at the tire swing as they passed to make it twirl. “You just like havin’ more ammunition ‘gainst me so you can use it later.”

“Of course not.” A beat, a grin. “Though I’ll be sure to get you some pumpkin if you ever have any… what was it, ‘intestinal flurries’?”

“I ate everything offered to me,” Jesse rose his nose in the air in confidence despite the banter, “ended up including stuff past the due date more’n once. Anybody would get an upset stomach ‘ccasionally.”

“You still eat anything offered to you.”

“And why wouldn’t I? Hey, if it ain’t Mona!” Genji would have believed Jesse’s exclamation was entirely for the purpose of changing the subject had it not been for the way the grown man lit up and stepped close to stroke the head of an old cow within the barn they had been approaching. Her big tired head was resting comfortably over the door to her stall - as she or other animals apparently often did by the dip of wear into the wood beneath her neck. Jesse practically was massaging her face the way he stroked either cheek while also wagging her head from side to side. “You really are still kickin ain’tcha girl!”

Genji allowed the reunion before him while he stood a quiet spectator for a time. It was sweet, seeing Jesse like this. The man could make friends of just about anyone - he could try to, anyway, even if it did not always work in his favor. But seeing him in his element, the cowboy with an actual cow was different. He caught himself realizing with a far too amused grin the joke in that thought.

“Come say hi to Mona, Genj!”

His expression was amused when Genji sidled up next to Jesse. He did not yet reach his hand out towards the animal. “People pet cows?” He asked. A bit strange of a question, but farm animals were extremely out of his element. Just because Jesse McCree did it did not mean an action was at all normal.

“And why wouldn’t they?” Jesse says, matter of fact, as if stating a very true and very in depth mathematical equation. “They’re just big dogs. Same as horses.”

“Big dogs that can stampede and kill you,” Genji mumbles, but reaches out nonetheless as prompted by the hand at his elbow. The curly hair on the top of her head was course but also softer than he had imagined. He catches himself smiling and just a tad bit more sincere in the way he says, “nice to meet you, Mona.”

Jesse was a kid in a familiar candy store, only fueled by Genji’s playing along with him. “And these,” he gestured as he walked the couple yards to more stalls in the back corner, “are Dude and Mouse.”

‘Dude’ and ‘Mouse’, as it turned out, were not childhood stuffed toys as Genji would have guessed by the names. Dude and Mouse were horses.

Dude was an Arabian, Jesse explained, that looked like he had never left the colt stage of his life. “‘Rabians are known for their real pretty heads and elegant-like looks. But Dude here is all gangly limbs and silly walks.” He stroked the chestnut brown horses neck lovingly. “His full name is Lucky Dude, but the guy that sold him to Meemaw said - there ain’t nothin’ lucky ‘bout that horse,” Jesse quoted with a deep, angry sort of voice to play it out with all the drama he felt it required. “‘E’s really just a big dog. Doesn’t always listen to ya - but more ‘cause he gets distracted easy than him meanin’ to be an ass.”

“A lot of this sounds very familiar,” Genji mused, giving Jesse a teasing sort of side eye before stepping up to mimic the petting Jesse had done to Dude’s neck, albeit slower. He would keep to himself that such similarities made him even more partial to the horse.

In the stall next to Dude’s was a shorter, stouter horse with large brown splotches over an otherwise white coat. “Mouse is older an’ sweet as honey. Named for the spot on ‘er side that looks kinda like Mickey Mouse,” Jesse introduced while scritching at the top of Mouse’s forelock between her ears.

While Mouse seemed quietly content to receive the affections, Dude began pressing his whole body against Genji’s arm to further the contact. When that did not prove enough for him - he brought his head over the low door to press Genji against it with the side of his neck, rubbing his head along the side of Genji’s face. What unease Genji might have had fell away with his laughter.

“I would’ve put you on Mouse if we go ridin’ since she’s so gentle, but guess Dude has other ideas.” Jesse said with his own laugh, ruffling at Dude’s forelock now.

“You keep assuming I’ve never ridden a horse before.” Genji said, a proud sort of grin on his face when he lifts his chin a bit.

Jesse only returned it with a hand clasping at his own chest in a swoon. “Oh darlin’, don’t toy with what’s already yours.” But for all the melodrama, when Jesse leans in to kiss Genji nice and soft it is quite sweet.

Until Dude none too gently smacks his chin down on the top of Jesse’s head. “Dude, what the hell?!”

While Jesse rubbed the spot Genji only laughed and pet the offending horse. “Yeah, I definitely like this one.”

“This is what I get when I pick you all these pretty flowers?” Jesse moped later, fistful of wildflowers while Genji relayed his introduction to the farm animals - much to Meemaw’s enjoyment and laughter.

* * *

The fair took place in an open field behind the church. The tents set up nearly dwarfed the small white steepled building before them. Two large canvas tents and a handful of smaller ones were already set up by the time the three of them arrived the next morning. While the two larger, tan canvas tents had some uniformity to them - the others were varying in size and color. Splats of pure white amongst the once white now aged to yellow small family run endeavors amongst the more gaudy, circus-esque red and white striped tents of business owners. Jesse and Genji were tasked with carrying the bits and pieces of Meemaw’s personal booth as well as the church items she stored every year.

“Seeing the church, I can see why people are asked to store things at their homes.” Genji commented, eyeing the single story structure that at best sat 50 people. “Especially if they only get used once a year. But how could such a small church put on such a big event?”

After he’d helped Genji slide them out from the truck bed Jesse shouldered up the other end of the long boards. “It’s technically the county fair, the church just offers the land to host it every year. Elsewise people like to use it as boasting material year round if they host it on their land.” He nodded to Meemaw to the lead the way to where they were to set up before continuing. “The church likes to do a lot of the food and auctioning, but other businesses and people do their own part. You haven’t gotten the privilege of seeing the livestock yet.”

By the third trip to the truck the pasture turned fair ground was abuzz with activity. More people had arrived with the building blocks for pens to hold the livestock, a couple small carnival games, some food stall trailers. Genji wondered at the apparent lack of organization to it all. The most that could be said was that the walking paths of years prior were still rather obvious, used for set up today to stomp on any new growth, leaving people to put up shop on either side.

Meemaw’s own small booth took shape in the middle of an eastern path._ Jenkin’s Pies _ was painted across an old peeling at the edges board in a soft lavender with bits of blue and green accents around it. Including a stray fading red handprint at the bottom right corner by a certain young boy. Genji was highly amused.

When Jesse returned from fetching their packed lunch from the truck he was greeted with a tall, heavily bearded, faded and fraying John Deere cap wearing man leaning on their newly erected booth chatting up Meemaw and Genji both. “Blue Bill, that you?” Jesse laughed at the way Bill tensed at the name. He grinned regardless, clapping a friendly hand on his shoulder.

‘Blue Bill’ did not give off even a tenth of Jesse’s friendly openness. His shoulder was stiff beneath the cowboy’s hand. “Nobody calls me that no more, Jess.” 

“Blue?” Genji asked.

Either Jesse did not notice that his enthusiasm was not returned, or he willingly chose to ignore it. Instead he simply smiled one of his usual playful grins in favor of giving Genji an explanation. “Oh yeah. All respectable adult or no, I’ll always remember when we were eight Bill here and I went skinny dipping in his Uncle Joe’s cow pond. Was January and by the time we-”

“Nobody needs to hear that story.” Bill cut Jesse off with an annoyed sort of grunt from his nostrils. “Nobody needs to call me that neither.”

This appeared to finally tip Jesse from his tower of enthusiasm. His smile turned a bit more sincere sympathetic, hopeful to the end. “Aw c’mon Blue Bill - don’t be that way. D’ya wanna grab a drink later?”

“Get offa me.” The irritation in Bill’s voice was as clear as it was in his actions, shoving Jesse’s hand away as he did then. “I don’t have time for this, or any drinks. I was just askin’ Mrs. Jenkins somethin’ for mama.”

Trouble and confusion were both present in Jesse’s expression watching Bill go. He had no idea what would make him act quite so sore with him. Sure he wasn’t too fond of the nickname, but…

The furrowed brows and drawn mouth on Jesse gave Genji the impression that he was deep in thought while they organized the pricing cards and small things at the business side of the booth. He let him ponder it for some time before finally speaking up. “Was he a friend, before?”

Jesse did not bother trying to play dumb. He tilted his head for a moment, stopping in his testing one of the twenty pens Meemaw had brought on a loose scrap of paper from the ledger. The couple of aimless circles simply to test the level of ink had turned into long, angry, hard cornered lines of lightning bolts. Even still when he looked up to Genji he shrugged with a bit of a smile. “Least I thought so.”

Briefly Genji’s brows lowered in concern. He nudged Jesse’s shoulder with his own. Supportive. “Maybe he’s stressed with the fair. You can try again later.”

It was appreciated. Jesse grinned, broad and true, when he leaned in to press a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. “Sure thing, sweetheart.”

“Don’t be too sweet on each other now,” Meemaw warned when she came up to the booth then, finished with her visiting for now, “else people won’t have anymore sweet tooth for my pies.”

“Can’t promise nothin’ Meemaw,” Jesse took it in stride, leaning in for an ever dramatic kiss ala puckered lips - only to be shoved away by the full flat of Genji’s hand to the underside of his chin.

“Your desserts aren’t tastelessly sugary, Mrs. Jenkins. No worry of that happening.”

“Spoilsport,” of a mumble from Jesse.

The next couple of hours remained uneventful for the most part. With Meemaw’s booth finished the boys were directed to help with a few of the church’s tents and attractions. After a time Bill joined the group of a dozen or so men Jesse and Genji had melded into - but he kept to tasks that did not include them in particular. Had they not been busy with their own jobs perhaps Jesse would have noticed enough to comment, but as it was he only gave small occasional glances in Bill’s direction. Waiting for - something. He didn’t really know what.

What did come was not at all within his wheelhouse of expectation. Thirty minutes after Bill had joined the general group helping the church a small, menacing woman came stomping towards the group.“Where is he?! I know he’s here. Should’ve known the moment I heard he was back!” Her peppered gray hair was pulled into a thin ponytail, thin flyaway strands making her head appear larger than it was. Like an angry bobble head that after casting her toppling gaze around had found Jesse. “You! Jesse McCree!”

Do you know her was not even worth asking on Genji’s part. The way that Jesse reacted, at least at first, was answer enough. A twitch and curling of his shoulders - as if to try and return to the size he was when he last interacted with this woman. Jesse caught himself though, now an adult, as hard as it was to tell sometimes. After the initial response he put on his most charming smile and turned towards her with open arms. “Mrs. Smith! It’s been a while, ain’t it? My bad, my bad for not going to visit you when I saw Blue Bill was here.”

“Don’t you try and snake talk your way out of this!” The woman threatened, stepping in close to Jesse and pointing her finger up at him, not appearing at all intimidated by the over a foot height difference in height. Jesse held his hands up defensively as she raised her voice. “My two silver serving ladles are missin’!”

Obviously perplexed, Jesse’s shoulders fell just a tad. “Uh-would you like some help looking for them?” He offered, unsure.

“I’d like you to return them you damned thief!”

“Ma’am,” Genji stepped in beside Jesse weilding his most calm, polite voice, “he was with me all day. Jesse did not steal your ladles.”

At that moment the woman turned to size Genji up, looking him up and down - and apparently not liking what she found by her sneer. “And how am I supposed to trust you, coming in town with the thief? Don’t think I haven’t heard. My son Bill saw you two all close-like.”

Recognition flashed in Genji’s eyes to hear this woman was Bill’s mother. When he looked to Jesse the man only sighed and scratched at the back of his neck. “Search my truck for all I care, I haven’t stolen nothin’.”

“Ha!” She exclaimed, throwing a hand up in frustration before using it to gesture to their gathering audience. She turned her gaze to one of the men in the group Jesse and Genji had been helping. “Greg McPherson, you remember your mama complainin’ because this boy stole candy from her store, don’t ya?”

Greg tipped his cap down and looked away, clearly not wanting any part of this argument. Jesse shook his head, “I was _ nine _, Mrs. Smith. And you know as well as anyone that Meemaw made me work at her store a whole summer after she found out.”

“Once a thieving brat always a thieving brat!” She proclaimed, not at all deterred. “Millie shoul’ve whipped you good when you were a boy. ‘Stead she mollycoddle’d you every chance she got.”

Now there was an English phrase Genji could not even begin to unpack in that moment. He shook his head of it, “ma’am, if you don’t believe us ask anyone else here. How long have your things been missing? Jesse has been in full sight of everybody here for the past forty five minutes, maybe even an hour by now, and before that-“

“Mama, what are you doin’ now?” Bill came jogging up to the arguing trio, automatically taking his mother by the elbow to turn her away. If her eyes were not on the one that had apparently offended her mayhaps she could be cajoled away. “I’m sure the ladles are at home. As frustratin’ as Jesse is,” a pointed glance towards the man in question, “he wouldn’t do nothin’ like this.”

With a few more ‘whispered’ words Bill was finally able to walk his mother away, even if she did throw a few more glares and choice insults back at Jesse.

“What the fuck did I do to the Smith family?” Was all Jesse could say as he threw his hands up, his tone somewhere between frustrated and tired.

Greg McPherson made himself known then as he came up to pat Jesse on the back. “You remember how mean Mrs. Cheryl was when we were kids. Age’s only made it sharper.”

“And Bill?”

Now there Greg shrugged and gave Jesse one more pat before going back to work. The small crowd had slowly begun to move again, what with their slightly tense entertainment break finished.

“Stealing candy from the store, huh?” Genji probed as he and Jesse joined the others.

“I was nine.” Jesse countered, defensive.

Genji pushed at his shoulder lightly. “No, no. From how big you talk I thought it would’ve been the whole ice cream machine.”

Ah - Jesse stopped walking in time to laugh and push Genji back.

Meemaw also tried to play it off when the three sat at her kitchen table for dinner that night. “Don’t let it curdle your milk, Jess. I think Cheryl’s lonely since Bill moved out and her husband passed on, rest him.”

“You didn’t see her, Meemaw. She had hell in her eyes.” For the look Genji gave him Jesse only waved his hand, “hell ain’t a curse down here, it’s a place. And that place was in there wantin’ to swallow me up good.”

“She did seem particuarly set on it being Jesse,” Genji conceded, “with no real reason, even if she does have a dislike for him.”

The last of the side casserole dishes were set in the middle of the table as Meemaw took her seat. She smiled and shook her head. “No more negative talk at the table. It makes otherwise good food go down wrong. ‘Sides, we all best get an early night. Tomorrow will be a long one.”

* * *

“Truer words,” Jesse laughed the following day. Meemaw had rang the old rod triangle dinner bell at the bottom of the stairs before 5 in the morning to wake the boys. Genji had sleepily wondered as the pair got dressed what need there was to get up so early if they had set up the day before. Apparently Meemaw had last minute pie preparations she needed done the morning of.

It was still just enough time for them to leave with all of the pies for the day and arrive at the fair ground set up at 7, an hour before the 8 AM start time. People that had booths and were working different attractions had already arrived and continued to after the trio, some of the stragglers power walking with their garden carts full of coolers down the beaten walking paths.

For all of Meemaw’s hurry Genji had his reservations about how many people would be attending so early on the first day. He was proven grievously wrong when within twenty minutes of the ticket booths at the entrance opening up there were dozens of people making their way into the fair ground. Tents were peered into, friends shared hugs and gossip. Children allowed so many cheek pinches before they whined enough to be allowed to run ahead on their own to some of the games or animal pens. The games and trade goods such as clothing, jewelry, and art had most of the attention for the morning, but as lunch time began to hit people were wanting their personal slices of Jenkin’s pies. 

Even with the three of them it was a fast paced couple of hours. Pulling the cooled pies from their coolers and slicing them, setting them in the small basket like boxes for convenient carrying alongside a napkin and plastic fork. Selling whole pies to families planning to take them home or to be served at the picnic tables set up near the food carts. More often than not Genji and Jesse did the slicing and plating, while Meemaw talked with the customers. Her sweet and calm disposition despite all of the hustle and bustle did well for them.

“I’m going to have to ask for her photo albums when we get back tonight. I need to see this young Jesse McCree I keep hearing about,” Genji says during a lull, elbows resting on the booth top.

“Honestly, Genji, I’m offended you didn’t want to see my adorable baby face the minute we got here.” Jesse returned.

“I already had them brought down from the attic and ready anyway,” Meemaw says with a small laugh, “we can look at them tonight. For now, I think I’ll go find ourselves some lunch finally.” She patted the both of them on the shoulders before going round to begin walking towards the food.

“I’ll come along and help carry, Meemaw. I think I’m too hungry for you to get it all on your lonesome.” Jesse said, vaulting himself over the booth to only receive an eye roll from Genji when he turned back to wave at him. “You got this, right Genj? Any requests?”

Genji nodded and waved back. “I trust her tastebuds more than yours. Whatever she gets I’ll take.”

Genji laughed at the chortle Jesse threw his way as he followed after his Meemaw. Being in a place where he had grown up, meeting a woman that had a part in who he was, made Genji realize a bit of why Jesse was the man he knew and loved. There was that bit of playfulness in Meemaw as well. He snickered - for some reason, he could imagine she got into her sorts of trouble when she was young. But perhaps she was better at hiding it than Jesse.

In the time it took Jesse and Meemaw to retrieve a meal for the three of them, a large group of teenagers appeared all together. The dozen or so of them had practically been raised on Meemaw’s pies, and all had their favorites that they wanted for individual slices to eat as they walked round the fair. And although he was left to fend for himself in the wake of this crowd - Genji was not one to run from a challenge by any means.

Even if that challenge came in the form of teenagers that enjoyed testing boundaries. And the patience of adults apparently, especially unfamiliar ones.

“Oh, just let me cut it.”

“Here, this one is crooked. Do you mind if I get another piece?”

“Let me find one in the cooler real fast to bring to mama.”

“What if I get two smaaaall pieces? Can that be the same price as one normal one?”

At one point three of them had shifted to behind the booth in the all of seven seconds his back was turned to open another package of plastic forks. “Excuse me,” he said, the harried energy making his voice gain that edge. As if being pushed and annoyed only made him excited for a means to fight back. “No one is getting any pie if you don’t get out from behind this booth. That is not how this works.”

“Mrs. Jenkins lets us cut or pick our own,” one boy said from the line at the front, turning his chin up on defiance.

“Well Mrs. Jenkins isn’t here right now to say if that’s true or not,” Genji returned, his grin as quick and sharp as a sword. “So. Do any of you want pies or not?”

After the third teen of the crowd had been helped and begrudgingly moved aside a ways to wait on their friends Genji was joined by Bill. “You handled them pretty well,” he said, smart enough to stay to the side of the booth rather than trying to shift behind it as the mentioned offenders had.

“Can I get an extra fork please? I want to share with my friend,” a girl asked, polite at least after witnessing the others being told off. At this point when Genji went to reach for the fork Bill was there beside him, reaching into the bag beneath the counter to hand it off to her.

“Have a good day at the fair, Stephanie,” Bill said, smiling. The more easy, friendly tone he used than what he had shown earlier eased Genji enough to not try and force him away with the kids right there to see. In fact as the line moved along Bill was rather helpful. Dolling out forks and napkins, giving stern but soft words to any that thought to try and test Genji’s words again. Being able to name the kid and, especially, their parents had an affect on them.

“Thanks for the help,” Genji said finally as the whole group moved on, “it’s a good thing you came when you did. I might have said things in a far less nice way had they kept on.”

Bill waved off the thanks, offering a smile. “It’s no problem. They like to push buttons. Especially on new people they don’t know the reactions of. Makes it fun. I just came over to-“ a pause as he glanced at his watch, did a double take, and hurried from the booth, “fuck I took too long. Gotta go.”

“Bye,” Genji called, his tone tapering off in confusion. It was probably for the best that he had not come when Jesse was there, but what other reason did he have to stop by Meemaw’s booth? Unless he had simply been passing by and thought to offer a hand when he saw Genji was having a crisis - but only a small one - on his own… which did earn him a few sympathy points in Genji’s book. Just a few.Not long after Jesse and Meemaw returned with some nachos, a couple burgers, and a big ‘Monster Barbecue’ sandwich for Jesse. They ate in peace, the rest of the day following that same easy mood until closing time approached. Disaster yet again struck when Jesse retrieved the cash box.

“What the fuck-?” He said, staring at the handful of bills in his hand.

“What is it?” Meemaw asked, stepping in beside him with Genji peering over his other shoulder to see. Minus a couple fives, ones, and change - it was completely empty. They had done far more business than what money was left in the box. A folded up piece of paper sat in the now empty slots for bigger bills. Jesse opened the note up to read it aloud.

“Millie Jenkins needs to pull out of the baked goods competition. Or else.”

“And it doesn’t say who wrote it?” Genji said, taking the paper to turn it over in search of a signature. There was none. Another realization had his shoulders jerking up, and then sagging. “I am - so sorry. I took most of the money and did the change myself. If somebody took anything, I should have noticed.”“Was there anyone besides us that got behind the booth?” Meemaw asked as she too took the paper over to turn it this way and that.

Jesse shrugged his shoulders. “Loads of people. People came round to hug you or me, to get a look at their selection.”

“A good handful of teenagers when you two left,” Genji said, his voice going lower in the confused guilt of it, “and-Bill, he showed up and help with them.”

Suddenly Genji felt a big, warm hand in his hair. He looked over to Jesse’s face to see the man again smiling his guileless smile. “This ain’t your fault Genji. We all let people back. We got lax ‘cause everybody trusts people here.”

While there was some residual tightness in his chest for sure, Genji was able to let it out as an exhale through his nostrils before he nodded. “We should tell the police. Show them the box and the note.”

Jesse’s smile turned as light hearted as a child. Genji narrowed his eyes at him, suspicious of what was to come. He knew that expression, and the playful tone Jesse used. “No need for that. I’m sure we’ll get the money back by the end of the weekend. Why spoil the fun by getting the cops involved?”

“Why spoil the fun,” Genji repeated, slowly, as if doing so he could somehow navigate his way to the logic Jesse saw in this plan of his, “by telling the police that money was stolen from the money box? And a threatening note was left?”

Except Genji should have known. There was no logic to be had. Not any that he could immediately understand, anyway. Because all Jesse did was ruffle his hair one more time, “it’ll get figured out,” and then begin _ whistling _ whilst cleaning up for the night. Meemaw and Genji only shared a look before shrugging at one another and following suit. Surely if it bothered her she would say something. Or perhaps she would go and speak to the officials herself later and let Jesse think the trouble would all fall out of place somehow.

Through packing up Genji tried to tell himself that it would get handled. On the car ride back he insisted in his head that Meemaw would speak up if Jesse’s lack of a plan bothered her. He was quiet through their dinner of leftovers, silently repeating over and over that it would be fine. Finally, when Jesse left to feed the animals and Genji stayed to help Meemaw with the dishes, he could not take it anymore. He practically slammed the casserole dish down on the counter. “Are you really alright with this?”

For her credit, Meemaw did not pretend to misunderstand what he was referring to. As Jesse certainly would have. No, she remained calm as she wiped over the plate in her hands with a white and yellow dish towel. “I am worried, don’t get me wrong. But Jesse is right that talking to the police would disrupt the fair. Mayhaps he thinks it’s best to tell them after.”

Genji shook his head. He was frustrated. At the situation, himself and his guilt towards it, as well as the seeming uncaring reactions from those around him. “It’s stupid. The money is not going to just appear back. You will still end up short for all of your work at the end after somebody stole from you in broad daylight.”

Out of shock, he supposed, Genji felt the boiling heat in his throat fall to a simmer when Meemaw actually laughed. “Sorry, sorry. It’s no wonder Jesse likes you so much. I’m glad you finally dropped some of that simpering politeness.”

Genji felt himself physically reeling a little, his head turning sideways and rearing back to settle a look of complete confusion, perhaps suspicion in response. Meemaw only laughed again. “I mean it’s good to be with people that compliment each other. The same but different.”

“How is that related to this?”

For that Meemaw only shrugged and gave a cryptic sort of peaceful smile. She simply returned to the dishes, leaving the both of them to silently finish the chore. One seemingly not at all affected by it and the events of the day, and the other feeling somehow both calmed but lost in a different sort of way.

“Your grandmother is strange,” Genji mumbled when he found Jesse brushing his teeth in the upstairs bathroom.

“Mm?” Jesse hummed, turning to look at him still moving the toothbrush in his mouth creating bits of white minty foam at the edges.

Genji leaned in the doorway - bless this quaint old house, he was not sure the both of them could comfortably stand in the bathroom at the same time - and crossed his arms. He squinted in search for the words. “I do not like how you’re handling this. It’s almost belittling of the situation that you’re so fine. I don’t understand it. And now she seems to trust that it will end up okay too. Money was stolen.”

For his credit Jesse gave the impression of considering it. His eyes went up and to the left, nodding his head a little and giving a gargled sound of thought. He spat out the foam and wiped his mouth before giving intelligible words. “Let’s go for a ride.”

Not the words Genji wanted to hear. What the _ hell _was his problem? “Jesse, I’m saying I’m pissed and you’re-“

Jesse put his hands up to try and placate him. “We’ll talk about it on the ride. I think talking outside helps. Fresh open air gives words more room.”

Genji gave him a look of annoyed but, in the end, resigned acceptance.

While he was not at all to admitting it to Jesse at that point, Genji did feel a bit less tension by the time they were on the horses. While most of it was self explanatory to a degree, Jesse was concise with his instructions of tacking the horses. He did not push a still frustrated Genji with too many jokes. Without any discussion Genji walked a saddled Dude out the back of the barn with Jesse and Mouse just behind.

The cool night air was felt more on the back of a moving horse than Genji thought. Even at a walk things were that bit different astride a large animal than when you walked the pasture yourself, as he had just two days prior. The wild flowers were smaller but more colorful seen in their clusters from the differing angle. It was almost childish but the country sky, full of stars in a way city night skies could only dream of, felt closer. As if his head was not far from swimming among them.

Jesse brought Mouse to a stop at the top of a hill. When Genji looked back he realized they had gone further than he had consciously noticed. The size of the barn behind them indicated at least a mile, maybe a mile and a half. He patted Dude’s neck approvingly. “You did well for being brought out on a surprise night exercise.”

“You both did. Pretty sure you’ve been on a horse, in this or a past life.” Jesse said, words gentle and his eyes more so watching Genji. Enough that it made Genji a bit embarrassed and have to look away. Not for bashfulness at the affection there, not by any means, but for the shift from his being angry.

He let out a sigh when he looked up at the stars once more. “Alright, I am calmer. You did right bringing me out here.”

“’m not sayin’ you shouldn’t be mad, not like that,” Jesse started in. “I was mad too. Still am annoyed somebody would steal from sweet old Meemaw. She ain’t no doormat, but that woman hasn’t ever hurt nobody enough to be threatened.”

Another sigh from Genji. “So _ why _don’t you want to do anything about it?”

“I didn’t say we weren’t gonna do anything about it. I said it would spoil the fun to tell the cops so soon.”

Genji looked and found Jesse smiling. “What are you going to do, dust the box for fingerprints yourself and go around selling fingerprinting as some novelty experience to _ everybody _at the fair?”

Jesse threw his head back in a laugh for that. “No - but that is a pretty great thought, huh? I might do that just for the hell of it. Nah,” he shook his head of the amusement before going on, “we’re here to help Meemaw, but I also was real excited to show you a place I grew up, y’know? It downright sucks this had to happen, and if it ain’t figured out by the end of the weekend we’ll go to the cops. But I think it’ll be fun to play Sherlock Holmes.”

A tired, incredulous glance from Genji. “You want to try and solve it yourself.”

Bingo. Jesse had to lean to slide a tad in his saddle and smack at Genji’s shoulder jovially. “I said we, didn’t I?” He continued smiling even when Genji remained unmoving. “You’re a smart one, Genj. M’sure with my charm and your brains we’ll have it figured.”

Genji was not quite to the point of leaning into Jesse’s blatant flattery just yet. “I’m sorry, I still think it’s stupid to want to. And honestly stupid to think you can.”

“But see,” Jesse held up a finger as if he were on some TV crime drama already, standing in court before a full jury, “we already have some pretty good clues.”

“Oh, please do share,” along with a roll of Genji’s eyes.

“Especially if nobody says nothin’ tomorrow we know only Meemaw’s booth was targeted.” Jesse counted of the facts on his fingers. “Word would get out if anybody else was stolen from. With the note, that makes it personal, not just an asshole lookin’ for some extra bucks from a sweet old lady.”

“Those… are some very fair points.” He had to hand it to him. As on outsider many of the points had not initially occurred to Genji, once stated they made perfect sense. “So you’re saying it would have to be somebody with a vendetta against her? But you said yourself, she hasn’t done anything worthy of threats.”

Shrugging was not the most promising action in light of the situation, in Genji’s mind, and yet Jesse seemed to think it was par for the course. “They mentioned the competition. Meemaw has won the church’s baked goods section for twelve years running now. That must’ve pissed somebody off.”

“So…” Genji started, mentally calculating all of the leaps being taken. Even if they were mildly thought out leaps. “With this logic being our only line we’re following, not considering any more factors than those you’ve given, whoever did this is someone that stands to lose if she wins again.”

An eager nod. “Either because they compete or have someone they care about that does.”

“But this is a county church baking competition.” Genji asked, trying not to sound incredulous or demeaning. But it was the truth. He did not see such a need to resort to stealing and threats for something like this. “Is it really worth all this?”

Jesse did not seem as offended as he may have worried. Instead he laughed. “It’s not like anybody got murdered.”

“Don’t even think about somebody getting murdered over a damn bake sale…”

“But? Will you try sleuthing it out with me, Genji?” And damn if Jesse did not look genuinely hopeful. “I promise if we aren’t any closer by Sunday night, we’ll go to the cops.”

“...” Genji gave him a good, long look. For all of his good points this still sounded pretty stupid for Jesse to even consider possible. ‘Sleuthing’ was not as simple as those find the item in the mess computer games. But then, there was that face looking at him… Like a puppy that truly believed their person was the whole entire world…

Finally, Genji steered Dude round to stop just beside Jesse. They faced the opposite direction than he and Mouse, horses so close when they breathed out the men’s legs brushed together. “Fine. But don’t do anything stupid. Even _ if _you find the person who threatened your Meemaw, she would be upset if you tried to fight them.”

For all of the hard, searching looks that Genji could give Jesse, right now… with the moon and the stars in the sky above them sending soft light through his green hair and just shadowing over his dark eyes… he looked absolutely gorgeous. Jesse grinned, surely a drunken sort of lopsided thing from the feel of it on his face and in his chest. “But you wouldn’t be upset, darlin?”

Jesse felt his heart nearly give out then when Genji barked out a surprised laugh. “Shut up so we can go back to bed and ‘sleuth’ tomorrow,” he said, softer than before, and tugged Jesse in by his collar to kiss him.

Before promptly spurring Dude on into a fair paced gallop back towards the barn. Genji’s laughter trailed behind him.

* * *

The next day Jesse started out in an exceptionally chipper mood even for him. He was up downing a particularly large, dinged red thermos of coffee and pouring another for Meemaw once the pot was ready.

“You remember how she takes her coffee?” Genji asked from his place at the table over a simple egg and bacon sandwich.

“Where do you think I learned to like it black from?” Jesse laughed, then took on an almost scholarly tone in a somehow even thicker southern accent than his usual. “‘Toss a horseshoe in the pot, ‘iffin it stands up the coffee’s ready.’”

“That is exactly right,” Meemaw said said as she joined them in the kitchen then. She tilted her head at the pair of them, up and dressed before she had even come to the table herself. “You boys are up early today. I thought maybe I’d have to wake you again.”

“We’re gonna figure out who took yer money and get it back for you, Meemaw,” Jesse announced as he handed her a newly plated set of eggs and toast alongside her sweet little white and pink flower mug of completely black coffee. He even added a kiss to her cheek, having to lean down to do so. A nice touch, Genji had to hand it to him.

Not that Meemaw seemed as if she had to be convinced. Although, for Genji’s sanity, she did not seem completely trusting of the idea. She gave Jesse a tilt of her head. “Do you have a plan?”

Jesse put on a face of faux hurt that had Genji snickering into his hand as he turned away, the unfortunate timing of having a mouth full of breakfast. “Of course I do!” A defensive pause, “sort of.”

“For starters,” Genji began, clearing his throat a bit to rid himself of his laughing, “we should lock up the money box when we are not immediately exchanging cash. That in itself will help, because with that should they try again they would have to take the whole box with them. I don’t think we would miss something as blatant as _ that. _”

Jesse nodded towards Genji as he took a long sip from his thermos, an invitation to continue. Naturally. Genji explained to Meemaw what Jesse had put together the night before. That he believed whoever had stolen the money and left the note did it because they wanted to win the church competition that Meemaw had been winning for so many years. “But I still think we should make sure no one else was stolen from. Even if the note was addressed to you, and you have been the first prize winner years in a row, we can’t assume nobody else was targeted just as means of clearing most of the competition. If you can tell us who all usually enters the competition Jesse and I can ask around.”

“But wouldn’t that tip off whoever stole?” Jesse posed, sitting down with his own modest breakfast of cereal. “In case it’s one of them.”

“And?” Genji shrugged. “If they care enough to make threats, they aren’t about to leave their chance of winning now. At most they try to steal again, which traps them with the idea of locking the box. Honestly it might help our case for them to know we are onto them and not afraid - it could make them panic and mess up somewhere in a way that we can pick up on.”

Jesse blinked at him, impressed. “Damn. I knew you’d be good at this figuring stuff, but… damn. It’s a lil on the terrifyin’ side too.”

“Best be careful how you decide to get into arguments with this one, Jess.” Meemaw warned, sitting herself down now with the pair of them. “‘Cause we all know you will eventually.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The faux pout was back.

But Meemaw only nodded knowingly, as sage and patient as she ever was or would be. “Just that you will fight, every couple does. But it’s best to have plans for how you wanna handle them.”

Genji could not help but smile, especially with this following the night before. But it was far warmer than even he thought the topic entailed. “I’m sure we both have things to learn, but he is not too terrible at it. So far.”

* * *

  
Armed with the list of all who usually entered the church’s competition, Genji and Jesse left at differing times that morning. Even as slow as the early morning was in terms of customers, all of the other booth organizers were there alongside them. And neither wanted to leave Meemaw alone at to the booth just in case this thief thought violence was an option.

Between the two of them they came up with little to nothing from booth owners. The light hints that were dropped about any possible problems with things going missing, unruly customers, anything they could come up within the moment of conversation, had little in the way of definite returned information. While some of them had _ heard _ of items being lost, some of the nicer serving cutlery and the like, no one could pinpoint just who it was that had been stolen from.

Ears did become peaked, however, when Jesse caught a damning shout from a tented booth full of hats on shelves and stands. “Are you planning to _ pay _ for that?!”

Jesse was not the only one that turned to look, having been speaking to an old school buddy selling jerky a few booths over. All in the walkway turned in curious wonder as the hat seller flagged down a group of teens leaving his tent. One in the throng was sporting a black cowboy hat. The girl in question didn’t seem phased at all however, laughing as she took the hat off and handed it over.

“God, calm down. I just wanted to see it in the light.” For the bit of offense in her tone she was laughing all over again with her friends as they left.

“Should’ve been raised better, them. Been causing trouble for just about everyone.” Said a mother pushing a passed out toddler in a stroller nearby.

Jesse kneeled down to gently fit the nearly fallen off purple sandle back onto the sleeping child’s foot. “I haven’t heard anything. What’s happened?” He asked, peering up at the mother as she fixed her long ponytail of dark curls. Not that he wouldn’t have done it regardless - but both being sensitive towards their kids and placing yourself below them could sometimes endear women towards you.

Sure enough, the mother placed a fist on her hip and started in on her chance to gossip. “They up and tried to nickel and dime a couple of kids with a lemonade stand. Being disrespectful to your elders is one thing, but bullying young children? And _ Lord _ the disrespect. Keep trying to walk out with merchandise and get so pretentious when they’re caught.”

“‘s that so,” Jesse mused aloud while rubbing thoughtfully at his hairy chin. One can forgive a guy being cliche when he’s trying to solve a crime, right? “I’ve been gone a long time. You know any of their names? So I can watch out back at my Meemaw’s booth.”

“I thought that was you Jesse McCree,” she laughed, shaking the hand Jesse offered her as he stood. “Mrs. Jenkins said you’d be comin’ back into town to help out with the fair. You probably don’t remember me, I’m Greg McPherson’s younger sister Susan.”

Jesse laughed right back. “How could I forget after I tried to fix yer pigtails one day at yer ma’s store, and they were so bad you cried until yer mama made me promise to never touch a girl’s hair again?”

Susan covered her mouth to muffle her shocked chortle. “It took her a whole hour to wrangle out all the knots you made trying to do braids.” The hand found it’s place back on her hip as she continued the former line of inquiry. “The one this time, the girl with the hat, was Stephanie Bradford, Sid Bradford and Lily Simmon’s girl. She runs around with her cousins, the Simmon’s girls, Hank Kilgore, and Jake Parish to name a few.”

“Didn’t Lily Simmon’s used to make fun of your pink shoes?”

“Jesus yes she did.” Susan shook her head at the memory. “She’s on the PTA and not as much a bully as a micromanager anymore. Bad attitude must’ve moved on to her daughter. But - you didn’t hear that from me.” Susan placed a conspirator hand on Jesse’s arm.

He patted at it with the understanding of an old hand at troublemaking. “Hear what from you, Susie?”

The curly haired toddler in the stroller began to fuss, waking up. “There’s a good man. Whelp, I’ve got to get some lunch in this one. It was nice talking to you Jesse - maybe you, me, and Greg can get together sometime while you’re town. Oh - and your cute boyfriend.” And just as the baby began to cry Susan waved her goodbye with that.

For a couple of moments Jesse stood there, watching her meld in with the easy paced crowds of the lunch time eating lull. He had told Genji that while it was a small, southern community that enough people respected Meemaw that he didn’t expect too much pushback about their being two men together. Not to their faces anyway. And yet Jesse had been a little apprehensive despite all of his optimism. But here were people from his childhood being as open and accepting as ever. It was, dare he say it and be even more cliche than ever, heartwarming.

And it made him want to find the one that broke that sweet nostalgia as well as the new hope with their thievery even more.

“There’s a difference between being teenage brats and stealing money or serving utensils though,” Genji said when Jesse returned with his new information. “And why would they leave the note? Even if its one of their parents or grandparents that stands to lose in the baking competition, which we don’t even know of for sure without a genealogical map in front of us, why would teenagers care enough?” 

Even when he stopped blowing holes in the theory outloud Jesse could see his mind continue working. Genji was bent over, his elbows resting on the boothtop surface and chin in one hand, rhythmically drumming his fingers against his cheek. He was leaned over so much his back was nearly perpendicular with the ground. Had they not been in the middle of a public event Jesse would have certainly made a grab for his boyfriends ass in a pose like that, even if the poor timing would have likely gotten him a scolding.

Instead Jesse chose to rest his elbow in the middle of Genji’s back, copying his pose only with Genji as his booth top. Although with less weight on his elbows as Jesse was certainly not the lightest of men. “Maybe their grandmother put them up to it? Said she’d let them have the money if they delivered the message. Or they heard her complaining and just thought it would be a funny prank, not anything personal-like.”

“Personal-like?” Genji repeated, peering back at Jesse with a look that held both a warning and a smirk at his antics. Jesse was pretty sure that Genji being able to convey all of that in a single expression was one of the thousands of reasons he loved the man.

“You know,” Jesse continued, taking the invitation he was certain was there to push a hand through Genji’s green hair, “not because they hate Meemaw or anything specifically.”

Genji rolled his eyes and huffed - although he did not move his whole head with the motion as he might have usually done. That would have made Jesse stop touching his hair. “So you gave us possible suspects but a different kind of motive, thanks. What a great help you’ve been.”

Jesse tugged at some of the strands in his hand before promptly stepping away in case of any retaliation on Genji’s part. “I do my best.” And then, more seriously. “Come on Genj. You gotta admit with them being little asses to you like you said, it would make sense.”

“It would,” Genji conceded as he straightened up and gave the hairs on Jesse’s chin a short tug. The returned attack was brief, however, and soon turned into a more tender stroke and pat to Jesse’s cheek. “But the more I hear about how - precocious you were as a kid yourself, the more I want to give these kids the benefit of the doubt. Would you have done anything like this, even at the height of your problem child days?”

“Maybe if I thought it would make Meemaw happy,” Jesse said, low. Because he meant it. When he was younger and stupider, he would have done a lot of morally reprehensible things if he thought it would make his sweet old Meemaw happy and he figured he could get away with it. “But I don’t think I would’ve been smart enough to leave a note quite like that neither.”

Genji snickered and patted his cheek again. “Aw, don’t sell yourself short McCree. You would’ve only made half of the note nonsensical curse words.”

“Thanks love, I really appreciate your fine words of encouragement.” Jesse laughed into the kiss he planted on Genji’s lips.

“Are there anymore of Mrs. J’s pies?” Came a small voice from behind them. When the two men turned round they found it to be a little boy probably no older than five years old trying to peer up into the booth on the tips of his toes. 

“Dylan!” Someone called out just then. A man came jogging up to place his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Sorry - he really loves Mrs. Jenkins food and ran off the second he saw the sign.”

Jesse flashed Genji a grin before singing, “hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s off to work we go,” as he bent down to prepare the to go containers while Genji asked what kind of pie Dylan wanted.

* * *

“So you did learn something,” Meemaw gave the two men at her table hopefully as Jesse made her a sandwich from the fixings on the counter. It was just too long a day to expect her to prepare them a meal, even a premade one. “No one else is missing any money that they’ve talked about.”

“It still feel like we’re not that far from square one. Only square one and a half.” Genji mumbled. Despite his and Jesse’s playfulness, as well as his initial dislike of the plan to solve this themselves, he was irritated at how little they had learned.

“‘s better than nothin’,” Jesse was ever optimistic in placing the plate on the table before Meemaw. When Genji did not get up to start making his own, Jesse started making another plate for him. Meemaw did always say people thought better on full stomachs. Although that might have been a ploy to get him to try more on his summer homework after eating a large dinner.

“Where’s the note again?” Genji asked, his head coming up.

“On the fridge,” Meemaw responded.

Jesse snorted. “What kind of good report card message does that send?”

“You’re the one that put it up there,” Genji retorted, sliding the Mother Goose magnet off of the slip of paper and sitting back down at the table with it. He began to read it out loud. “‘Millie Jenkins needs to pull out of the baked goods competition. Or else…’ It’s so strange because nobody has called you Millie since I’ve been here. Other than this the only time I heard it was your first name was-“

Genji’s chair slid back abruptly as he stood. The shrill sound made Jesse turn around in surprise, two sandwich plates in hand. “What?”

“The only person that’s called her Millie was Bill’s mother!”

It did not take long for Jesse to consider this possibility. “If she’s all alone and bitter, this competition would be something to throw herself into… it’s been years since her cakes won more’n third, hasn’t it?”

“Jesse McCree,” Meemaw admonished with a shake of her head. “You shouldn’t talk like that about such things.”

“It would make sense with how she’s acted, Meemaw,” Jesse said, a bit timidly at first for being reprimanded. “Blue Bill too even, they could be in on it together.”

Genji carded a hand through his hair as his butt flopped back down into the chair. “He did come behind the counter when the teens were there, and then left pretty quickly. He could have easily taken the money and left the note then…” Genji leaned back in his chair, his expression contorted in confusion even with these new revelations. “I know we were thinking it might’ve been Stephanie and her friends, but I still didn’t think anyone would be that blatant. I was _ right _ there.”

“I mean he could be pretty fast playing cards when we were kids,” Jesse considered aloud, setting the remaining plates before his place at the table and Genji. And yet when he took a bite of his food… it tasted like sand in his mouth. Did Bill hate him that much?

“What should we do?” Genji finally asked, looking up between Jesse and his Meemaw. Jesse remained quiet as he chewed on a bite of food. For being so gung-ho about finding who did this - he wasn’t entirely sure how Jesse could handle the possibility of it being one of his childhood friends.

After he had swallowed Jesse took another moment of thought before he raised his head to speak. If he had any reservations he did not show them now. “If Meemaw still competes, they may just do something even bigger. Big enough to get caught… that’ll be the perfect time to throw some accusations around. If they don’t do nothin’ - then we go to the cops, ‘cause I don’t know how much usin’ a name will hold up.”

“Cops that could’ve found fingerprints on the note in the first place you mean,” Genji mumbled under his breath, but otherwise left it at that.

“Sound like a plan?” Jesse asked, looking pointedly to his grandmother. She had not said a word since she had scolded him.

A sigh from her, resigned. “If it’s the best we can do.”

* * *

The readiness for their investigation from the day before was not there the following morning. The three in the house were quiet when they woke up, when they ate breakfast, and when they packed the truck.

“Do you think she’s angry? Hurt?” Genji asked softly, closing the door of the truck bed beside Jesse.

“She could just be serious because she’s finishing up her pie for the competition,” Jesse posed. Although he did not seem to fully believe his own words.

Genji squeezed at his forearm once in sympathy and watched his boyfriend’s face. They shared a look before climbing into the truck as Meemaw exited the house shortly thereafter. She said nothing, only held her fancy ceramic pie dish in her lap once she had settled another bag in between her feet on the floorboards.

Sunday was the day for all of the competitions and events. Following nine o’clock church service it was all hogs, cows, and house goods competitions. Baked goods, quilts, flower arrangements, just about anything you could find in a Country Living magazine had some sort of entry at the fair. Only a few of the choice food stalls remained open to feed competitors and onlookers. All of the entrees had to be present before the church service started, left on their pedestals with name cards in a closed off tent. A couple of the livestock shows took place during the service, so it was not as if the grounds were completely barren for that time. Even still, Jesse and Genji both decided to stay around the tent while Meemaw attended.

“Just in case they try anything while all the judges are away,” Jesse had said. But all Meemaw did was shake her head and walk into the church.

A couple of women were milling about the baked goods tent when Jesse and Genji returned, commenting on the appearance of the entrees and some of the names. To Jesse’s fairly trained eye - his words - Meemaw’s pie did not look at all tampered with. “I would be pissed if only because I always get what’s left after the judges have their tastes,” Jesse elbowed Genji, “and nothing comes between me and her peach and candied bacon pie.”

“Candied bacon is one of the most southern American things I have heard of yet,” Genji shook his head with a small elbow back. He looked around, “it’s not as if the tent is closed to the public and under lock and key. I don’t see how someone could get away with anything like this.”

“Not if we mill about here all damn day,” Jesse sighed none too dramatically. “At least if we were alone we could make out.”

“Yes,” Genji drawled, “the height of my sexual fantasies is making out with my boyfriend in a hot tent surrounded by baked goods. You got me.”

“I’m sure I saw some extra whipped cream cans around here somewhere.”

Genji barked a surprised laugh so loud both of the women turned to look. Before he could wave away any apologies, however, the sound of a child wailing started up just outside. Immediately the two women ran outside to check - but Genji and Jesse looked at each other. Certainly no one would mess with kid just to cause a distraction… but with almost imperceptible nods to each other Genji left as well, making the front of the tent flap an extra loud amount while Jesse bent down behind one of the heavily draped tables. 

A couple of moments passed with only the sounds of continued tears and comforting words from one end of the tent. From the other end, however, there came small shuffling sounds and the back flap being unzipped ever so slowly. Had he been outside Jesse wouldn’t have been able to hear any of it. A few more shuffling sounds as someone entered and came closer to the table Jesse was crouched behind. Later he noted to say that he had purposefully positioned himself by the table containing Meemaw’s entry rather than the dumb luck that was the truth.

At the shrill sound of ceramic scraping glass Jesse hastily came up to stand. “Stop!”

There stood Cheryl Smith holding Meemaw Jenkin’s pie high above her head, frozen from the sudden appearance and shout. It came crashing down to the ground just in a mess of yellow goo and white shards. And of course it was just _ before _Genji, the two women from before, and a young girl entered through the front flap of the tent.

Embarrassing as it was for him, Cheryl was quicker on the take than Jesse. “Jesse McCree, why in the world would you do such a thing?!” He had to hand it to her - the aghast way she delivered the line was on point.

“Me?! Why would I throw my own Meemaw’s pie?”

“How am I supposed to know the mind of a thief? I bet you’re the one that’s been stealing too!” She pointed at him like a TV lawyer in a court scene, with the growing crowd at the front of the tent as the jury. They looked between the pair of them - Jesse, the man that had been gone so many years that those who did not know him only remembered him as the rambunctious child of years past, and Cheryl Smith, a known member of their community her entire life. Odds were not exactly in Jesse’s favor in front of this specific peanut gallery.

“Did nobody else see what happened?” Genji spoke up as he stepped in front of the crowd to stand beside Jesse.

A woman shook her head, “we all went outside when we heard-“

“Mrs. Cheryl,” the little girl from before was rubbing at her face as she came forward to tug at Mrs. Smith’s skirt, “can I have my treat now?”

The elder woman turned her nose up at the girl’s pleas. “Georgia Jackson, you need to learn some patience you little-“

“What was that?” Jesse asked, coming round to kneel in front of the girl. “Did Mrs. Cheryl tell you something hun?”

Choosing between the now angry old lady and the man talking sweetly to her at her own level - Georgia stepped closer to Jesse and away from Mrs. Smith. “She said if I pretended to fall and cry she would give me a piece of cake…”

Everyone in the tent went quiet. Jesse smiled and put his hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I hate to give ya another chore, but I promise if you go and get the sheriff? You’ll get a whole one of Meemaw Jenkin’s pies.”

In a matter of minutes the sheriff had arrived along with the whole of the congregation. “Of course it’s still old man Pullock,” Jesse winced at the sight of the smartly dressed man everyone parted for.

“Jesse, tell me he-“

“Wasn’t the sheriff when I was around causin’ messes as a kid? Can’t sweetheart, ‘cause that’d be a lie.”

“Jesse McCree.” Sheriff Pullock removed his offwhite cowboy hat to scratch at his gray, balding head with such a sigh as he came to stop before Jesse and Genji. “Why am I not surprised to find you in the middle of all this mess?”

“Ah, you know me,” Jesse tried to laugh it off in a friendly manner.

All he got in return for his efforts was a tired look from the sheriff. “We’ve been receiving reports of rumored stolen goods happening since the beginning of the fair, but as no one specific has come forward our hands have been tied. Do you know anything about that?”

From the side came Cheryl Smith herself, shoving past a deputy in the middle of questioning her. “My nice serving tongs have been missing! But my son insisted we wait until the end of the fair to see if mayhaps they were just lost at home in the mess. You should search their booth.”

“Heeeey now,” Jesse rose his hands up, again trying to keep the situation calm and civilized, “that wasn’t at all why we called you Sheriff. Mrs. Cheryl here snuck in and done ruined my Meemaw’s pie for the competition! Two days ago some money was stolen from our booth, and the thief left a creepy note telling Meemaw not to enter the competition. So we thought maybe that person might do something iffin she still did. Genji and I parked ourselves here all morning to watch for anythin’. And sure enough her comes Mrs. Cheryl from the back while the kid was causin’ a distraction! Now I don’t know if there’s anything on them lawbooks about sweets assaultment-”

“It was Jesse who threw it!”

“And I’m gonna say it again Mrs. Cheryl, why would I mess up my own Meemaw’s pie? But like I said sheriff, that may be nothin’, but the money taken and the threatening note-”

“Mama?” Someone called from the crowd, shortly followed by Bill pushing his way through people to stand with his mother. “Jesse, what in the hell did you do you asshole?”

“Enough!” Sheriff Polluck broke up the arguing. After a short pinching to the bridge of his nose he straightened up and turned to the deputy that had been questioning Mrs. Smith. “Fred, you go search for these damn tong things. Take Bill with you to identify them as Mrs. Cheryls.”

Clearly happy to get away from the confusion this entire situation had turned into, Fred loosened his baby blue Sunday tie and took Bill by the arm to lead him out of the tent.

“And you,” the Sheriff turned back around to face Jesse. “Why in the Sam-Hill did you not tell us when money came up missing along with a note?”

“Yeah, why didn’t you Jesse?” Genji asked as well, turning to look at his boyfriend with just an expression of expectancy to match the one of exhaustion from the Sheriff.

“You’re not helping, Genj,” Jesse said out of the side of his mouth before slapping on a big, broad smile. “Because I thought it’d be a cute way to spend time with my Meemaw and boyfriend. Have you met Genji, Sheriff Polluck?” The way that Genji and the Sheriff both sighed? Could not have been better timed if they tried.

As Genji decided to take on the task of _ better _ explaining the chain of events to the sheriff, it appeared as if Mrs. Smith was going to interject - until a woman came into the space clutching her wide brimmed Sunday hat. “It’ll be just a minute Jerry, I promise,” she hushed one of the deputies trying to keep everyone away from the pie crime scene as it unfolded. “Cheryl? Cheryl, I was just going to tell you that I was in such a rush to get to the church this mornin’ I forgot to take that box to Mrs. Jenkin’s booth for you. She don’t need it until later does she?”

The way that Mrs. Smith went white as a sheet before red as a tomato, trying to ‘whisper’ the woman away - had the Sheriff, Jesse, and Genji turn to look her way. “What’s that now, Mrs. Deedee?” Sheriff began, stepping towards the pair of women.

“Oh-Uh-“ The woman looked between Mrs. Smith glaring daggers at her and the Sheriff, clearly unsure of just what it was she had walked right into. “Cheryl asked me to leave a box of things at Mrs. Jenkins stall before church this morning, somethin’ or other that she wanted to borrow, but I didn’t have time-“

“I think this just might be the box in question, Sheriff.” Fred came through carrying a box high above his head - followed by Bill who had his cap off and was scratching at the back of his bare head. “You’d best look inside.”

A number of eyes peered into the simple cardboard box as it was set on the ground and opened. Inside was a pair of silver tongs and a ziplock bag of money.

“I don’t suppose these are your mother’s, Bill?” Sheriff asked, gesturing to the cutlery.

Bill nodded. He had not stopped scratching his head. “They sure are. Have grandma’s initials engraved on the ends and everything - ES, Edith Smith.”

“We found it at Deedee’s Fresh Berries stall, sir,” Fred the deputy explained.

For the first time since he had returned to the tent - Bill looked up at his mother. “Mama, how come you didn’t just ask me to take the box to Mrs. Jenkins?”

Mrs. Smith’s shoulders sagged, defeated. “Deedee, you dumb bitch, you never could read a room.”

“You never did talk it over with Mrs. Jenkins to borrow some change money, did you? I knew I should’ve taken the time to read that note myself.” Bill continued, still watching a mother that would not meet his gaze. He was confused - hurt. He did not move away from the soft and comforting touch Jesse gave his shoulder.

“I sure never heard anythin’ about it.” Just in time every single person there in the tent turned and gasped to see none other than Meemaw Jenkins walking inside, a pie tin in hand. “Any pie thrown away is a waste, but at least it was only an easy banana pudding pie and not my peach and bacon.”

Jesse gave an impressed whistle, although it was mostly covered over by Bill. “Why, mama?” He asked.

Even with her own son staring at her Mrs. Cheryl Smith remained hard hearted. She cast her glower on Jesse first. “Because I heard that damn brat Jesse was coming. You would’ve gotten that football scholarship had you not been running around with him so early on and had it on your record. If I framed him good and won for once to boot? I’d’ve done it all again in a heartbeat.”

Surprising just about everyone in that tent that day, Bill stepped more fully in front of Jesse to take the brunt of his mother’s glare. “Mama, I love you, but you should’ve known better. Jess was only ever here but a couple of summers when we was kids. The messes I got into later in life were on me.”

And when Jesse gave Bill a small wave as he went along with a deputy to give his full details of the case, and Jesse with another… Bill waved back.

“So you had a fake pie in place of the real one all along?” Genji asked Meemaw incredulously outside the still bustling baked goods tent.

“Why do you think it took me so long to get out of the church?” Meemaw said simply. As if she was talking about the weather or how to grow beautiful petunias. “I left the real one in the church’s kitchen. And then I got caught up talking to the pastor. What with the threat and all - I thought no one would mind if I had a stand in there on time and the real one someplace else. I figured you and Jess would have everything wrapped up with a bow in the end.”

“No you didn’t.”

“You’re right dear, I didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” Jesse asked, walking over with Bill in tow.

“Nothing, nothing,” Genji snickered. “How are you doing Bill?”

“M’fine,” Bill gave Genji a grateful wave of the hand. “They’re not quite sure what to charge her with, but they are taking her to the station to get everything in writing at least. And she’s banned from entering any baking competition in the state.”

“Hey man,” Jesse said, patting Bill on the back with a look of genuine remorse, “I’m sorry this all happened. And I heard what you said in there, but if I ever-“

“Jess, don’t. Mama thinks I have all this wasted potential - but college ain’t no place for me, never was.” Genji was certain he saw a shine of surprised emotion in Jesse’s eyes then when Bill pulled the childhood friend into a hug. “‘Sides, I’m havin’ a blast making custom furniture instead of all that ‘real adult job’ mess. Come by sometime when you’re next in town and I might have a piece for ya.”

“Just something small enough to make it inside a third floor apartment, huh?” Genji said with a laugh when the two friends pulled apart.

“I’ll see what I can manage,” Bill laughed back, giving the three of them a wave as he walked off.

“So,” Jesse said, throwing his arms around both Genji and his Meemaw’s necks. He leaned in to press his nose against Genji’s cheeks. “How’d you like your first official country fair, Genj?”

“I would say it really can’t be a good representation what with all of the drama. But with you as part of it? Yeah, I guess it makes sense.”


End file.
